


wall sex is hard

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Flirting, Exhibitionism, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Kissing, Secrets, Sexual Humor, Snooping, Surveillance, The Director's office, byebyehiatus, silly fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Coulson try really hard to have wall sex in the Director's office. Silly fic.  Written for the #byebyehiatus prompt "Wall Sex".</p>
            </blockquote>





	wall sex is hard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



“This is so… _”_ she breathes against his mouth.

“What?” he asks, a little desperately, and lets go of her sweatshirt, as it drops from his hand to the floor.

“Hot?” she replies, like it’s still unfamiliar, but she really wants it to work here.

And the fact that those words just escaped from her mouth, in _actual_ reference to kissing _him_ , _here_ , is enough to practically send him into overdrive.

It actually feels transgressive, despite the fact that it really isn’t their first rodeo. Her eyelashes brush against his cheek, and somehow now he can’t put a sentence together.

She grabs at his hand, lacing their fingers, and he drops their entwined hands, puts them on the desk - _it used to be his_ \- and kisses her again, when his elbow makes contact, and they hear the clattering noise.

“Oh. Crap.”

They both look down together to see the pile of displaced papers on the floor, the neat stainless steel file organizer laying bereft on its side.

She laughs a little.

They’re supposed to be poking around into this new guy’s mysterious background, but, she made a joke asking if he’d ever had wall sex, and it turned into-

“We should probably-“

“Later,” she says decidedly, pulling him forward by his t-shirt, leading him.

And he’s always been willing to follow her. Anywhere. _This_ is not a problem.

It’s all he wants.

She’s leading him, still, dressed in her workout gear, minus the sweatshirt, looking _anywhere_ for a blank space along the wall.

But it’s as if the new Director has covered over almost every inch of it.  Like IKEA exploded in this office.

“Dammit,” he tells her, shaking his head, while she still has his t-shirt balled in her first.  “All that nice brick, and he covered it up.”

She spares him a pitying look and then pushes him up against the row of low, wall-mounted hidden cabinets to kiss him.

It makes him feel like the heat has been turned up. Doing this, here, is managing to unravel all his inhibitions faster than he thought it would. 

This has been a bit of a challenge for him, opening himself up again, letting himself feel, and actually sharing it with her.  Maybe last week in one of the lesser-used parts of the base was just a precursor to this?

There’s this small, tinkling noise, from inside one of the shelves, like something’s not quite right.

“Did we-?” she asks, stepping back, looking over his shoulder.

“I’m not sure?” he says, out of breath, and turns to pretend to care about the cheap cabinet.

She raises her fist and knocks against it, curious.

“Sounds hollow.”

He watches her puzzle it through, slide her hands along it looking for a joint, and maybe this isn’t the right moment to mention that he thinks this is a super-sexy thing about her?  That it’s the reason he came here with her to begin with. To watch her do this.

“Do you want to continue our _investigation_?” he asks, lowering his voice, as her eyes flutter and she stares back at him, catching the innuendo as a corner of her mouth turns up.

“Right now.  _All over this office_.”

Grabbing her hand, he pulls them to the windows, confident, as he settles down onto the narrow edge.

“Double paned glass,” he tells her, while he presses his lips in dots up her neck. She moves between his knees, as his hand slips along her naked waist. “Reinforced steel…and…”

He groans, audibly, when her hand grabs onto the front of his sweatpants and squeezes.

“Tell me more,” she says, with a smile against his mouth, and pulls back to watch his beatific expression, before she traps his back up against the paned surface and runs her thumb along his jaw until it reaches the joint and his mouth opens.

He’s so focused on her tongue slipping against his, on chasing this connection that they have, that she has to forcibly yank him back as the automatic blinds slide down and thunk into place.

“Is that new?” she asks, her arm wrapped around him, protectively.

“Thanks,” he answers, blinking behind them. “We only use these for lock-down situations. Oh, wait,” he adds, extending a finger to poke at them. “These are just for shade.  They’re not even for security.”

They both give each other an equally appalled look.

“He made this office sex-proof,” Daisy complains.

“And tacky. But _nothing_ is sex-proof,” he promises. He thinks about the floor, but, really, that should be a last res-

She’s followed his eyes already, and bites her bottom lip, walking backwards toward the desk, until she sits down in the chair behind it.

Resting her hands on the arms like she owns it, tapping her fingers against it.

“This is…,” he starts, closing the distance, but pausing at the desk to check for a free spot, then planting his hand on the corner of it in a lean. “I’ve imagined this.”

“Me running SHIELD?” she asks, pushing her toe to the ground and trying to spin in high-backed chair, “Or me-“

It stops at about forty-five degrees.

“Yes,” he chuckles. “But in _my_ chair.  And on _your_ terms.”

She uses her feet to move the chair back around, then scoots it forward and puts her elbows on the desk.

“This would’ve been much better in _your_ office,” she says nostalgically.

“I agree,” he smirks.  “I apologize for these poor working conditions.”

Still, it’s her in _the_ chair, and he’s in _the_ office with her.

“You should make it up to me,” she decides, reaching forward, pulling him around the edge towards her by the strings at his waistband.

Her hands start to work to untie them, as he leans back against the desk.

“I don’t think this is _me_ making things up to you,” he tells her, as his fingers grip the edge of the desk behind him, slipping against the files there. Some of them tumble to the floor.  “More like-“

“You still want to be in charge?” she teases. 

It’s definitely a tease, because they both know he doesn’t put much weight in being in charge.  Definitely not when it comes to her.

“If you want me to?” he says without conviction.

“Oh, I want you to,” she answers firmly, running her thumbs along the places where his hip bones jut out.

He watches her fingers trace along his body, and then sees the image in the file next to her right hand, and narrows his eyes.

"Um," he swallows, and then sucks in a breath and plants his hand on top of it, and turns it towards her. "Look," he manages to breathe out, just as her thumbs hook into his waistband.

She scoots even further forward and looks down at the file.

“Seriously?”

“He left it there,” he starts, outraged. “Right out in the open.”

“It was covered with the other files and in a file before you moved it,” she says, frowning. “But-”

“I thought you said that there were no cameras in that part of the base?”

“There aren’t supposed to be,” she says calmly, and picks up the image and turns it in her hand, to look at it from a different angle. “I guess our secret is not so secret.”

“Yeah, no kidding?”

“Please. That was one of our tamer moments,” she reminds him and starts to give him a wry smile, pressing the picture against his stomach, as he takes it from her.

“He’s probably watching us now,” he says with a frown, inspecting the office walls. “What a creep.”

She sighs, and stands up, tugs at his strings again to pull him to her, and starts to tie them.

“’Alright, sweetheart,” she says, giving him a quick kiss. “You get started putting the place back together, and I’ll go erase the security footage.”

“There’s a perfectly nice wall in my room,” he calls after her, as she puts her sweatshirt back on.

“There’s a perfectly nice wall in the hangar,” she grins, swinging back around to look at him.

He looks at the picture one more time before tucking it back in the file.

It occurs to him, then, that she might want them to get caught.  So this won’t be a secret anymore.

“Hey,” he says, just as she’s at the door. “We don’t have to hide this.  _Us_.”

She looks at him a bit curiously, and rests her hand on the door frame. “I know. But maybe for just a little longer?”

“Why?” he asks, standing up from the desk, and setting the file down on it.

“I like sharing a secret with you.  Is that weird?”

“No,” he replies, as the corner of his mouth turns up. “Not at all.”

“Cool. We look pretty hot when we kiss,” she pauses, and he can feel his face starting to get hot. “I hope we didn’t make the Director too uncomfortable.”

“Okay, moment over,” he says, shuffling with the files.

But her delighted laugh stays with him even after she leaves.                                                   ,


End file.
